Laundering Allerdale Hall
by Paperback-Avenger
Summary: At the start of a new decade, the McMichael's move to England, in the old Allerdale Hall. Magdalena has read her grandmother's book and believes it all. Despite her family's protest, the girl knows that Edith is true to her word, especially after the house shows the spirits within.
1. Chapter 1: Holiday News

**Enjoy the story!**

The snow was crisp as the guests arrived. Their shoes were wet, and still, they walked

onto the carpet of the McMichael's house. As soon as they entered, they were transported into a world of merriment. John and Diana always created a wonderful environment for family and friends. Their wealth added onto what they built up, the doctor bragging that his parties got better each year. While family and friends mingled, the children spent their time in the library. The younger ones listed off what toy they hoped to get, the older ones discussing what they thought was far more important.

Magdalena was in another world. She read, her hazel eyes looking from page to page. Her hands gently flipping and mind wide open. It was the same book she had been obsessed with for years. _Crimson Peak by Edith Cushing._ The cover was torn and the pages were worn out, but the only thing that mattered was the adventure inside. And the personal message from the author herself.

"Madge," it was written," you are a wonderful young lady. May you dream big and believe in all. With love, Grandma."

The girl finished the book again, but not before glaring at her cousin. Daniel smiled evily, his intentions harmful. For the last sixteen years, he tormented and teased the young lady. He was her least favorite cousin from her favorite aunt.

"Reading the same book again?" he asked.

"What's wrong with that?" the girl shrugged as she made her way to the shelves.

"It gets boring," he sighed," just because Grandma wrote it doesn't force you to read it."

"Who said I was being forced to?"

"My mom."

Madge knew that was a lie. Aunt Bathsheba knew how much she loved that book. She climbed to the third shelf and placed it back in the slot. As she made her way back down, blonde hair bouncing, she noticed that Daniel was gone. He was talking to Rosa Beth, the only daughter of Aunt Lily. The young teen had asked the boy about Crimson Peak, to which he scoffed.

"It's a fake ghost story," he laughed," We're only forced to read it because Grandma made it up."

"She didn't make any of it up," Madge mumbled.

"Can you prove that?" he asked," Just because you're sixteen and still believe in fake stories doesn't mean everyone else has to. I bet if I asked Grandma, she'd-"

A woman poked her head in the doorway. It was a sweet, old, recognizable face that Madge was relieved to see. Edith announced to her grandchildren that dinner was ready. Madge's brothers ran with her other boy cousins, except for Alan, who was 'too mature for playing around' but not enough to talk to the adults. She was the last to leave the library, where the kind smile greeted her.

"Hello, Grandma," Madge smiled as they walked down the hallway.

"I've been looking for you all night, Magdalena," the old woman laughed," I tried to ask your father, but he's in his own world."

"Talking to his colleagues?"

"You guessed it."

John McMichael was a good natured man, the two found. He made sure his family had food on the table, a roof over their heads, and a Christmas party every year. However, he could be cocky when he wanted to. It was much unlike his father, who always stayed humble about his profession. Edith, her old eyes upon her eldest granddaughter, saw that something bothered her. She knew what it was.

"Who said something?"  
"Daniel," the girl sighed as they got to the end of the hallway," but who else would it be? Grandma, this sounds weird, but I know those stories are real. No matter what they say, I just know it-"

"They are," Edith said as they shuffled into the dining room," I may be old, but I know ghosts and insane things when I see it. Believe me, if it were safe enough, I'd take you to Allerdale to show you."

"I'd have to decline," the girl laughed.

The older woman did too. She moved in between her daughters and sat down. Magdalena sat near the end of the table, where her mother sat. Diana gave a small smile to her daughter, then looked over as her husband stood up. The dark haired doctor, his glass in hand, glanced around. He was admiring the people that sat before him. Each one had their glasses in the air. The dinner's steam filled the air, looking delicious and as beautiful as last year's. This made the arrogant man smile.

"I raise a glass," he pointed out," to a toast. A toast to Diana and I for hosting another successful party. For our chefs, my wife and my sisters, Bathsheba and Lily, who cooked a wonderful dinner- we can hope. A toast to my mother, who sits with us, and my father, who sadly passed away in '45. God rest his soul."

Murmurs were heard amongst the group. Some silently prayed, but John continued his toast.

"They've shaped me into the man I am today," he said," and to my children, who will become fine people, and for you, I have news. Due to my new job, yes, a new job, we will be moving," seeing the expression of the people, John rushed on," We won't be moving just anywhere. I couldn't wait to tell you this- but we'll be moving to England."

Diana's praises were louder than the chatter. John found her happiness to be above the words of the others. Edith seemed tense, but let her son continue without a word.

"There is an old mansion in need of some work," he explained," I've bought it for a very good price. Once it's done up, we'll enjoy it! Trust me. With that being said, may we have a happy Christmas and may 1950 bring us joy!"

The group toasted, all except for John's wife, his children, and Edith. The old woman looked to her granddaughter. It was obvious that something new took up her mind.

"Dad," the girl choked out," What was the name of the mansion?"

"Allerdale Hall," he looked straight at his mother," I believe it's in a red clay mine. Nothing we can't fix."

"Why would you buy that property when you know what occurred there?"

After the guests left, his sisters and Diana wanted to have a talk with John. He didn't want to hear it from his sister.

"I thought," he laughed," as the oldest, you knew better. None of that is real, Bathsheba. It's a fake."

"It was real for mom," she scolded," You know that mansion is a disaster. It's broken, it's messy- hell, it's sinking on a clay farm!"

"It's certainly no place to raise a family," Diana stepped in.

"But the beauty is that we're gonna rebuild it," he explained," once the winter's over, we take down the entire mansion! We'll rebuild the foundation, we'll restore it to its full glory. We can have a fantastic new life! Just because Mom says it's evil and haunted doesn't mean it's true. We're moving whether any of you like it or not."

Edith stood outside the door, unable to process the news. She couldn't believe her own son was going back to the mansion of bad memories. Especially with her grandchildren. The worry settled on her own face, as well as her eldest granddaughter.  
"He doesn't believe all the things that happened," Magdalena said," he doesn't get it- we can't move into that house."

"I know, dear," Edith lifted her head," but those spirits couldn't hurt you. They've moved on and won't disturb you. And if they're still around- well, it'll be alright. I'm moving with you."

"Are you sure you wanna go back, Grandma?" the girl asked.

Edith nodded and earned a smile from Madge. The old woman hated the idea of her

family living in a house of horrors. The young girl watched as Edith knocked on the door and went into the room. Magdalena had more confidence if her grandmother was going. She knew what happened at Allerdale Hall. She'd been poisoned and trick by siblings with a secret. She knew what happened when it was Crimson Peak.

 **I'm back to writing fanfiction! I hope you guys enjoyed it and I'll be back.**


	2. Chapter 2: Arrival

**Welcome back, everyone! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.**

The family barely celebrated the new decade before John packed everything he could and they were off. Madge clung to her book throughout the entire journey. She was nervous for the road that they were on. She knew how dangerous their new life on Allerdale Hall would be. The evidence was right in her arms.

Edith looked around. The town outside of their home wasn't lively- it never was. Much had changed, however, as it wasn't abandoned. There were buildings all around, and few people walked on the streets. The car in front of them, John and Diana, suddenly stopped, to allow a family to walk past. The children, Edith, and the driver (Mr Wills- who would help John fix up the house) fell forward. The man that drove reminded Edith of a man she knew long ago. He was kindly and made sure the ride was as smooth as possible.

"You'll see folks from time to time," the driver gave a toothy grin," A lot of rich folk come here in the summer to be away from the city. Problem is- they bring all the pretentious people with 'em."

"When I lived here," Edith recalled as the cars started up again." it was pretty abandoned. I'm surprise so much has changed."

"Well," Mr Wills turned as the McMichael's did," the mansion won't be changin' until your son fixes it up."

Magdalena watched the outside world. The snow made the people outside look like ghosts. Their movement against the winter winds were slow, and each look was lamented and in a distant place. Some scowled, as if they knew the family's purpose for being in England. She felt ashamed of what they were doing and where they were going. As they left the town, the girl looked down at her book. The mansion, by car, was only a short distance away. Edith felt the bitter cold on her feet, reminded of the long walk she took. If it wasn't for Alan, she would have died in that mansion. Her words would never be published. The family she had now would've been wishful thinking as she choked on blood and poison.

"If your grandfather found out we were going here," she said to the children as they rode on," he would've never forgiven your father."

Madge lifted her head once the car jerked again. The land was covered in red and white, clay seeped from the ground. For how sinister it truly was, she saw the beauty in the land. Her eyes darted across , the book loosely hung in her arms. George, who sat in the middle, scrambled over his brother. He wanted a glimpse of the outside.

"I've never seen this much red!" Edward commented.

"It's amazing," Madge mumbled.

"It's weird," George looked around," What kind of place is this?"

"Not one for children," Edith told herself.

Once the car stopped, the boys ran out onto the clay. Diana walked over and scolded her sons. She watched as the clay stained their shoes and pants. Stains she wouldn't be able to get out. Mr. Wills and John grabbed the bags, lost in chatter. The cold was out of their minds as they dragged the trunks to the steps of the house. Edith and Madge awaited the open door. The old woman shivered as her son pulled out the massive ring of keys, each one serving a different purpose in the home.

"Are you ready?" the young girl asked.

"I will warn you now and tell your brothers later," Edith took a deep breath," Do not go into the basement."

"That's the worst part of the house," Madge looked at the leather bound book.

"Well," John walked in," it's home."

The girl headed inside, without a spark of hesitation. The dark, depleted mansion lined Madge's vision. The wood splintered from the floor, to the walls, to the ceiling. The gaping hole that hung above them left a patch of snow in the middle. The stairs creaked,without movement from anyone. The paintings and pictures barely covered the walls, and the eerie feeling rose immediately; and yet, even in a room like this, the girl found a gothic beauty before her.

Edith stepped inside and tightened her shoulders. Each detail from her memory stuck out. She felt the soft hands of her ex husband as she walked in front of the snow pile. She glanced up at the stairs, where a broken railing hung. The pain in her back spiked, the thoughts flourished and the darkness brought anxiety. Her son didn't notice, and she didn't expect him to.

"Nothing's changed since I've been here," she said to no one in particular," Even the weather stayed the same."

"Believe me," John sat a trunk down," when it's completely built up again, we'll have a home that'll bring goodness and prosperity. Mr Wills has wonderful ideas. When we're done here, I'll take Diana to our bedroom, then the four of you can choose a room of your own."

The children went off to a far spot in the house. It was a big room, covered with books and elegant belongings. Magdalena looked at several of the titles on the wall; most of them which she had never seen. Some- she could tell- were family albums. Her own book was in her arm, a new guide for what was to come.

"Look at this thing!"

Edward sat on the old stool, its fabric tattered and legs wobbling. He stared at the keys

that were untouched for forever. He played Move It On Over as best as he could- or in the worst way possible. The boys' obnoxious singing echoed in the oversized room. Edith panicked, the fear of old spirits attacking.

"Boys, please!" she begged," this isn't a place to be playing. You don't want to break that piano. Now, why don't we go see if your father needs help?"

The old woman watched her granddaughter, who studied the room. With regret, she

walked out with the boys. She would only be a minute.

The girl was unfazed by the three. She stared at the books, the organization well, despite broken shelves and dust in every crevice. Madge hoped the remodel would have walls of bookshelves- even a library, like back in America. The girl looked around, lost in the world around her. She looked over at a painting, of a woman she didn't recognize. The girl looked down at her book, and wondered if this had been Lucille, the woman of poison. Behind her, she heard a song being played.

"Grandma said to stay off of that," the girl mentioned.

Still, the song continued. In annoyance, Magdalena turned to scold George or Edward. It wasn't one of her brothers. It was silence and thin air. The book in her arms fled to her chest. Madge tried to think rationally as she made her way over to the piano. It was now untouched, forgotten in an instant. The girl looked around, then moved onto the stool, the book in her lap. Slowly, and steadily, the girl's fingers glided across the keys. Madge knew the song she played- it was one her mom taught her- but she couldn't remember the title. It was something sweet and sorrowful and-

"Madge!"

The girl looked over to the entrance. The cover to the keys slammed down, which

caused her to reel back. Her mixed emotions- thankful that her hands were alright and fear that it had happened on its own- pounded in her heart. She grabbed her book and stood up, walking quickly to the doorway.

"Coming mom!" she yelled.

Magdalena walked upstairs as she went to pick out her room. As she walked on the rotten steps, she heard the piano softly playing. Edith did too, looking down at the entrance of the room. It all came back.


	3. Chapter 3: Foster and Bargains

**Hello everyone! I'm glad there are people that are enjoying my story. It means a lot to me! Anyway, enjoy chapter 3!**

The snow stopped for the night, but the cold remained. Even the fireplace couldn't keep the family warm. Edith felt the familiar winds on her fragile skin. The nightgown swept the floor, the only bit of comfort in the winter. The old woman continued her walk down the hallway, and stopped by the elevator. She studied the recognized frame and the latch. Shivers traveled down her back, not only from the cold metal, but the blood stains that were imprinted.

Edith carried herself to the railing of the stairway. The broken part, splintered and decayed, still dropped off. The wood dangled at the edge, waiting to fall from the high floor. The only thing the woman could picture was the wretched lady, her eyes full of anger and bitter intention. The thought of the poison slowly taking her life, waking up each night to drops of blood made the old woman cough. She sat down on the top step and leaned against the wall. Her shaking hands covered her mouth, doing her best to calm herself down. After a minute, the mansion was reverted back to its usual silence.

"Are you alright?"

John stood outside of his bedroom, a candle flickered against him. The light reflected on the warmest sleepwear he had. His mother nodded and stood up, almost falling in the process. Her son helped her, gently placing her upright.

"Are you sure you should be here?" he asked," In this house?"

"Should you be?" she replied.

"We're all in good health," the doctor shot back as she turned her around," Mom, I know you warn us about the house, but if it's so terrifying, why did you come?"

"I won't be around for forever," Edith walked down the hall," I can only warn you about the dangers of living here. I'll do what I can to protect you, and Diana, and the kids. Especially the children. Even if I have to come back here."

John kept an eye on his mother. Her movements were weak, and it was obvious that coming here took a toll on her. Her weary, yet wondrous eyes stared down at his feet. While the doctor felt guilt for what she was going through, he couldn't see the truth in it- and neither could his wife. His daughter was caught up in the lie, every thought and action connected to Crimson Peak. His sons couldn't spare a moment to care about the story. They didn't fear the ideas, but never doubted them either. Edith, however, had her beliefs onto Madge- and he wouldn't have it.

"Magdalena is almost seventeen," he mentioned," the boys turned twelve last November- this is the perfect age to be responsible and understand the truth about our world. They're safe in this house because they know better. They get that the myths in the book aren't real and that they have nothing to worry about here. Now, we should get to bed- my colleagues are meeting us in town tomorrow. Goodnight Mom."

With the end of his tirade, John walked down the hall and went back into his room. Edith felt a violent wind blow against her bare neck, causing her to shrivel up and cough aloud. Her son didn't believe her and there was no changing his mind- she was sure of it.

The family drove into town, the sun bright against the snow. It almost blinded the doctor as he moved onward. The back of the car was packed, the children and Edith unable to move. John talked the entire drive, his head in the clouds and mind only on his colleagues. After what seemed like forever, the family was finally exposed to the cold as they approached an office. The building looked new, with shiny windows and a red door. Dr. Elwin Foster was painted on the front, Dr.Finley Bargains ,both faded and in desperate need of a touch up. Dr. John McMichael was fresh on the glass. Madge questioned- to herself- why the town needed three doctors. His name in gold made the man smile as the family stepped into the doctor's office.

They were greeted with a carpeted waiting room. There were chairs surrounding the beige room, a staircase that lead to a light upstairs. That was until a man walked down. He had a gracious smile under his thick beard, and a tall, wide frame. Behind him, was a bald man. He supported a mustache on his upper lip, and thin glasses around his eyes. He was short and thin, They were immediately recognized by John, who walked over and shook hands with the taller man.

"It's good to see you, Elwin," Dr. McMichael exclaimed.

"Likewise, John," Dr. Foster said.

"This must be your family!" Dr. Bargains turned to the others that stood," I'm Doctor Finley Bargains, and my colleague Doctor Elwin Foster- come upstairs! My wife and I welcome you to our home."

The group made their way up into a living room. It was half the size of the one in the McMichaels' American home. The lavish style of the Fosters was similar to their own. It gave comfort to the new family. On the couch was a brunette woman, who smiled and approached the guests.

"Hello!" she exclaimed," it's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Julia- Mrs Foster. You must be Diana, you are as lovely as John described you."

"Thank you," the other woman smiled," this is my mother in law, Edith. And my children, Magdalena, and twins Edward and George."

After they got familiar, the children went into another room. They were met by five other children- two that looked near the girl's age, and three other boys- closer to Edward and George. While they ran to the boys, Madge went over to the two on the bench. There was a girl, with her hair pulled back to show bright green eyes. The boy on the other side (his hair slicked back and a smile plastered to his face) turned his head to Miss McMichael.

"You must be Doctor McMichael's daughter," the young man and woman stood up," I'm Dylan- son of Doctor Foster."

"And I'm Grace Bargains," the girl happily announced," Daughter of- well, you know. I've heard that your father bought Allerdale Hall. Doesn't he know what went on and what still goes on?"

At least other kids believed in the story. At the mention of the deadly mansion, Dylan stiffened slightly. He looked to Madge, nervous, yet full of wonder. They anticipated her answer.

"He doesn't believe the stories," the girl admitted," Every time my grandma or I mention it, he shrugs it off like it's nothing. He's not one for spirits and ghosts."

"Hasn't he read Crimson Peak?" Dylan piped up and walked over to the bookshelf.

"He's heard the story about a thousand times," Madge had a smile on her face," after all, his mom wrote the book."

Dylan and Grace looked quickly to each other. Miss McMichael gently took the book from the boy's hands. She flipped through it, noticing how new the book was. The words were bold and the cover felt fresh. Madge observed the reactions of the other two.

"Your grandmother is Edith Cushing?" Grace gasped,"Then you must've heard the story a lot!"

"I have a copy of Crimson Peak that I keep with me in the house," Magdalena explained," I'm guessing the both of you believe in what goes on."

"Of course we do!" Dylan sat down," I went in the house, in fact. Last summer, Grace and I snuck out and went snoopin' around the ol' mansion. We knew somethin' was off when we got there."

The Foster boy recalled hearing the piano throughout the entire house. Madge got a chill down her back, remembering the melody when no one sat at the stool. Grace swore that a woman kept crying, as if she wanted to be left alone. Each puzzle piece of their story fascinated Madge even more. She was amazed to find people that believed in Crimson Peak just as much as she did. She could tell they would get along well.

"Eventually," Dylan recalled with a laugh," I got so scared, I grabbed Grace and we got the hell out of there!"

"He was shaking the entire way home," she interrupted," I was afraid that he was gonna rat us out- but he's kept his mouth shut to this day. That place is definitely haunted. Im not surprised if you've encountered something already."

"I have," Madge went on," Someone was playing the piano- no one was there. I think it's the ghost of Lucille-"

"Dinner's ready!"

The younger boys scrambled off, prepared to scoff down their meal. The three older children slowly made their way to the door.

"You know," she said," you're going to meet my grandma- but I'd talk about the book after dinner. My father-"

"We understand," Grace nodded," Before my mom died, she was a firm believer of the book. She would've loved to have met the Edith Cushing."

"You'll love her."


	4. Chapter 4: Trinkets

**Enjoy Chapter 4!**

"We need at least six different bedrooms," John looked to Mr. Wills," I'd like this home to be in our family for years."

The gentlemen sat in an office room. Dr. McMichael leaned on top of the desk, his palm flattened on the smooth wood. He refused to sit, as these plans only excited and agitated him. His eyes glanced back and forth on the giant paper the other man had. On the side, Mr Wills wrote John's requirement on another slip. There were several things the doctor wanted for his new home and nothing less. It caused concern from Mr. Wills.

"Sir," he warned," if you add too much onto the house, I'm afraid it'll sink. You don't want clay seepin' through your floor."

"A lot of adjustments have to be made, Mr Wills," John said, annoyance smothering his voice," I can't stress that enough. I want extravagant rooms and decor for my family, which means I have to take the risk. Now then, when do we start building?"

Downstairs, Diana worked in the kitchen. The dark, dusty place would have to do for now. The odd feelings she got as she wiped down the stove and table were growing with every movement. The only thing that made the withered room seem refreshed was the smell of cake. Diana knew the one thing that could calm her overworked mind- baking. It always proved to be a relaxing factor when she went through stressful events in life, however, the thought of being watched made her favorite activity difficult. The timer ticked loudly, and once it stopped, an enormous noise came from behind.

Diana screamed and turned around. The only thing that laid before her feet were fallen pots and pans. The woman breathed heavily as she studied the scenario. The hooks in which her cooking appliances hung stayed in tact. It had to be

"Boys!" she yelled, picking up the pans," Stop playing around with the pots and pans. You're going to break something and then we'll-"

Creaking behind her. Diana closed her eyes and picked up the last pot. She hoped Edith's stories were a myth, and that a ghost wasn't stalking her. The woman hung up the last one and turned around. Just an open cabinet. With the window open, Diana felt a little more at ease. She hadn't touched the cabinet since the family moved in here and thought it had been locked. Quickly, she shut it and went back to her baking.

"There's too many rooms in this house to count," Edward complained," Sometimes, I can't even find my own bedroom."

The children were taking another walk throughout the home. They had yet to explore every room (some would never be touched, for they were locked) and they were curious. Madge, after spending a weekend talking to Dylan and Grace, had her heart set on finding the spirits. She knew they were still wandering, and whoever made the beautiful music had to know they were there. Lucille Sharpe, she thought, had to be the one- Madge was determined to find her.

"George!" She noticed he was picking the lock of another room.

"It's our house," he replied back snarkily," We have a right to know what's around here."

"She's just scared because you might release some spirit that'll kill us," Edward laughed.

"Shut up," his sister scolded," If the spirits would go after anyone first, it'd be you."

Edward, not believing in the tales, rolled his eyes. He found his sister to be overly paranoid when it came to Allerdale Hall. She obsessed over the idea of their new home being haunted, when the boys knew it was fake. Suddenly, the lock popped open. Without another word, Ed threw the door open and poked his head in. His brother, with the same level of curiosity, ran in after him. Magdalena, for fear that Lucille or other evil entities attacking the boys, followed behind.

The room was familiar to Madge. In fact, Edith wrote about it in her book. It was the inventing room of Thomas Sharpe- her husband. There were toys on every inch of desks and shelves, each one unique and impressive. Plans for new toys and dolls were pinned against the walls, some torn and dusty, others in perfect condition. Madge read them, the signature of the man her grandmother loved on each one. Her fingers dragged across and studied their outlines.

"How could someone with a brilliant mind be so corrupted?" she asked herself.

"He could've been our grandpa," Edward looked to a toy that had a small metal ball, hidden by a cup.

Madge nodded, but didn't pay much attention. Her grandmother portrayed Thomas as someone who was the schemes were twisted and the relationship with Lucille was horrendous, the love they had could've been real. Edith never admitted it, but she missed Thomas- Madge was sure of it.

"Do you think Thomas would've been as good as Grandpa was?" Edward asked.

"Of course not," Madge snapped away from the papers," Grandpa was good to us, and if he hadn't saved Grandma, we wouldn't exist."

"We would exist," George argued as he wound up a toy," because the Sharpes weren't killers."

"I don't except you to understand any of this," Madge mumbled.

"I thought this room was locked," Edith smiled as she walked into the room.

She glanced from side to side, focused on the different memories before her. It was all too familiar, and while seeing the children in here made her happy, it caused her muscles to tense. Their eyes were full of wonder, and hers were full of regret.

"Your mom is making cake," she explained," Boys, why don't you come with me?"

Madge mouthed a thank you to Edith, who winked and went off with her grandsons. When they left, the girl basked in the silence and the inventions around her. She heard ticking on the floor, and became alert. She scanned the floor, getting closer to the noise. In seconds, she found a wind up mouse on the floor. With a sigh of relief, Madge picked it up and studied it. The mouse was cute, with a shiny silver body and big black eyes. The rusty fly on its back looked sturdy and handmade. Impressive.

"Edward," she told herself," Huh, this is a-"

The cold, loose grip on her shoulder was enough to make her drop the toy (however it didn't break). Magdalena looked to her shoulder, but found nothing there. She heard her mother call her name, and the feeling disappeared. In an attempt to find out if it was a spirit, the girl did the only thing she could.

"If this is Lucille Sharpe," she began," I don't want to harm you. I'll admit that I am afraid, and fear can be a weakness, but I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me. Do we have a deal?"

When the room became silent, Madge was called by her mom again. Reluctantly, the young woman left the room, closing the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5: If Only in My Dreams

**Hello! I'm glad to be posting another chapter. I hope you guys enjoy!**

The room gave Magdalena some comfort. Its old feelings and squeaky floorboards were unnerving, but she found herself okay with this. She sat on her bed, nightgown reaching to the bottom. She placed the book on the nightstand, the candle put out with a simple blow. Madge heard her mother as she threw herself under the covers. The woman smiled and made her way over to her daughter.

"Goodnight, Madge," the woman said softly, a kiss on her daughter's forehead placed.

"Goodnight," the girl yawned," Mom, has anything weird happened to you in this house?"

Diana looked over, tempted to explain what happened in the kitchen that day. She could tell that her daughter wanted, more than anything, to find out that their home was still haunted. With a quick step to the door, Diana was halfway out of the bedroom.

"Oh, of course not!" the mother laughed," I'm a bit tired, and I might have seen things- but it's only my imagination!"

"Are you okay?" Madge asked, concern and suspicion in her voice.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she smiled," Get some rest, Madge, dear!"

Her mother's last words left her oldest child perplexed. She stared at the chipping ceiling, making pictures between moonlight and darkness. Every one of the figures she created reminded her of the house, and the stories her grandmother told. As Madge dozed off, the cracks became more of a scene. A ballroom, with glossy floors and candles all around, was full of people in only the finest outfits, danced around. The elegant music played softly as the strings were plucked and pulled. The bows were quick and skillful, and the men that played them were dressed properly.

"There she is," a beautiful woman gasped," and look at her dress! You look absolutely wonderful, ma'am.".

Confused, Madge looked down at herself. The girl was in a ballgown, the color of a pearl. It felt like silk, and it shone in the light. The beauty they held were mesmerizing, and she felt important. As she looked down, the woman saw a pair of black shoes. When she looked up, she saw a man, in his twenties (Madge supposed) with curly black hair and astonishing blue green eyes. For only a moment, the girl was enchanted by him, and his smile. Miss McMichael saw the face- but she couldn't recall where.

"You look beautiful," he reached a hand out," Shall we dance?"

"Oh!" she grabbed his hand," Of course-"

Before they could dance, a bang was heard. Madge woke up, annoyed that such a lovely dream had been ripped from her. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to get back to sleep. Outside of her room, the girl heard speaking. It was an unclear woman's voice, and she sounded deep into a conversation.

"Mom?" she called, loud enough for the woman to hear," Grandma?"

"-they cannot be here," the new voice was stern, and approaching fast,' Not here, not here, not now! Not after what happened, I want them gone!"

The noise ceased for a second. Madge, in fear of whoever was at her door, held her breath. For a moment, the girl wondered if this was still a dream. She crawled across the bed, her hands sunk into the blanket. She was slow and quiet, still afraid of what was behind her door. Under the frame, an abundance of black smoke spewed. It crawled across the floor, and Madge felt her fears worsening. She felt her hands shaking and her heart rate increased. Then, with full force, a bang occured on her door. The incident occured again, sending the girl running back in her covers.

"Let me in!" the woman screamed," You idiotic child! You-"

"Leave that girl alone!"

This time, it was a male voice. It was old and soft, and it made the girl relax slightly. She

eased up for a moment, but then a horrible shrieking pierced her ears. Madge threw her hands up, and did her best to block out the noise- however, it was to no avail. She screamed to push away the noise of the other woman.

"Go away," the daughter begged," please don't hurt me!"

The screaming stopped when, in a flash, John burst through the door. His expression was one of worriment for his daughter. Madge's tears covered her young face, only when her mother pulled her into a hug did the girl realize that she cried. Her brothers and grandmother stood outside the door, just as baffled as the parents.

"Magdalena," John spat out," what happened? Did someone try to come in?"  
"Did you have a nightmare?" Diana asked.

"There was a woman screaming," Madge mumbled," I think she wanted to hurt me. She tried to get in, but someone told her to stop it. She wouldn't stop screaming...someone wants to hurt me."

John furiously looked up. He knew his mother's stories were getting to his daughter. He went over as Diana comforted her daughter.

"It was only a nightmare, dear," she tried to reassure," no one is here to hurt you."

"Then why did she scream?" Madge demanded to know," Why did that woman keep banging on my door?"

For this, the woman had no answers. She only rocked her daughter, afraid that her mother-in-law's stories were true. However, she could never tell her husband.

"You need to stop telling her stories," John stipulated," they are driving her crazy. Soon enough, she won't want to stay here."

"Good," Edith said as she turned away," she can't be in this house. It's a nightmare, and I can't have my family living here. You know what haunts this place, you know that I lived through Hell here. Yet you bought this house-"

"I'm renovating," he simply reminded.

"It doesn't matter, John!" She shouted," You put your wife and my grandchildren and yourself in danger. By being here, even if you fix it up, you'll never be able to fix what happened and what every woman went through. They're haunting this entire mansion, and you've done nothing about it."

"We'll discuss this later," he said through his teeth and stormed back into his room.

Madge found it hard to sleep that night. In her arms, she held the book, unable to think about anything else.


	6. Chapter 6: Upton

**I am so sorry for not updating sooner. I've been busy with senior year and trying to come up with the entire story. Now, I think I have the perfect ending. Enjoy!**

The bell rang after what seemed like forever. George and Edward ran out with their new friends, after a long day of learning and boring teachers. Morgan and Louis Foster bounced on, with Andrew Bargains close behind. The five boys had gotten along ever since their first meeting. Much like their older siblings. With Andrew, came another kid, this time a young girl with little brown freckles and reddish-brown hair.

"George, Edward," he explained as they stood together, waiting for their older siblings," this is Sylvia Upton. Her older brother's friends with my sister."

While they were getting to know each other, the older siblings walked out of the building. The younger kids walked on after they saw the others, and walked on to the doctor's office. Hours before, Madge had been introduced to Roger Upton. He had a thin, tired face that never strayed a smile away. His long legs raised above snow piles as he, Grace and Dylan listened to what their new friend had to say.

"-The first voice was harsh and a woman's," she explained," and the second was a guy's, but his was so much softer. He sounded like he wanted to stop the woman. And she- I think she wanted to come after me. Now, I know this may sound crazy, but I think it was the Sharpes."

"I believe it," Roger shrugged," Especially about Lucille."

"He should know about the Sharpes." Grace mentioned.

Dylan grew uncomfortable for a moment. The only confused person was Madge, who did not understand the situation. Roger had never cared if anyone brought up the story. He looked to his books as he thought about the story he told oh so many times. Then, he smiled back up at Miss McMichael.

"My great aunt was a wife of Thomas Sharpe," he admitted.

Madge felt her heart race and eyes bulge. She knew that there had been a few documented women that were wedded to Thomas. Edith hadn't show her much, not wanting to permanently scar her.

"Sylvia Upton," Roger went on," My grandfather always told me to keep away from that house. He thinks spirits still reside their. Especially that of my great aunt, odd as it may seem."

"It makes sense," she mentioned, her eyes lighting up because another believed," I've seen a lot of strange things in the house already. My brothers don't understand. They still think that the story's crazy and they don't have to read it just because Grandma wrote it. We're the only ones who have seen things and have had visions. I'm starting to think that, if they don't believe, that we'll all be in serious danger."

From the front, the little children wondered what their older siblings were talking about. The twins simply ignored their sister as they hopped around the snow.

"Our sister and grandma think the house it haunted," Edward sighed," If you ask me, that sounds insane. George and I haven't seen a ghost floating around yet. And we won't be seein' any for a long time."

John looked disgusted as he scanned the kitchen. He dreamed of a beautiful stove, with fridges that had been stocked with the finest foods. With a floor that didn't have splinters shoved in his boots. He knew his wife deserved a more desirable place for her baked goods. She had already christened the rusting, dying stove with a beautiful cake that (he would neglect to mention to her) had a smell of aged metal.

"I'll get new furniture once this room is redone," he told Diana as she stood in the doorway," I'll install new windows, tear up the floors and put up new wallpaper."

"At least let me pick the color," she looked to the ground," John, are you sure this place is safe?"

"Don't tell me Mom got to your head," he said with a half-laugh.

She bit her lip. Edith _did_ have a point. She had nearly lost her life in a crooked, terribly aging house. One that gave off a haunting, chilling feeling. Her daughter had a nightmare only a day ago. Madge had never had a nightmare that made her scream and beg to be left alone. As a mother, this worried Diana. John saw the worriment in her eyes. He danced over and held her hands close to his chest.

"Don't you worry 'bout a thing," he promised," we're all gonna be okay in this house. I know that it seems terrifying, but change always was for our family. Remember getting married? Moving into our first house? The kids' births? We have nothing to overthink. Besides," he continued as he dropped her hands," I would never move into a place that could hurt our children."

As he spoke, he noticed that one of the cabinets opened. The couple had noticed that the door swung itself opened during odd times, and often. No matter how it closed, or if it seemed to stick, it would always find a way to show its contents to the new residents. John simply chuckled as he slammed the door shut.

"And we're gonna remove this cabinet."

His wife smiled, and left with little reassurance in her heart. She thought about Edith's book, and the struggles she went through. Deep down, Diana had a belief for the ghosts that stayed in Allerdale Hall. Of course, she would keep these thoughts locked away from John. He had not an ounce of belief inside of himself.

John turned back to the floor and went to rip up one of the boards. He then heard the cabinet door slam open and glass shatter. He looked up, finding a broken bottle on the ground. It was small and full of a liquid that he had no clue about. John cursed under his breath as he wiped up the fallen spill. He took a whiff, but it had no smell. It seemed odd, but it pushed out of his mind as he tossed the glass out and tore up the floor, unaware of the fallen product's true power.


	7. Chapter 7: The Chair

**I'm sorry for not updating this story in forever, but I am back! I can't wait to write more of it.**

Edith swept the old wooden floor. Despite her aging hands and feet, she had a youthful joy about her that loved to clean. Even if it was in a house that tore her apart, physically and mentally. The old woman smiled softly as she swept across the hall. Her tiny feet danced along the cracking floor with the hopes of making a once horrible place to a new home. If her family was going to be stuck in this decrepit mansion, she was going to make it worthwhile.

"I was dancin, with my darlin', to the Tennessee waltz," she sang quietly," when an old friend I happened to see…"

Edith noticed a door opening down the hall. At first, it didn't bother her, being that was used to the odd happenings of the mansion. She kept to herself as she waltzed down the hallway, broom shaking slightly as she cleaned away. As she reached the end of the hall, Mrs. McMichael took her eyes on the now opened door. The locks around the old door were rusty and looked like they could no longer hold it together. The splinters in the wood stuck out with unfortunate pride, and all she could wonder was what was in that closed off room. Edith glanced at the stairway and the elevator, and found only silence. Carefully, she slipped into the room, ready to discover what was there.

Chipped paint and faded window panes greeted the old lady. Her feet walked across a small red carpet that laid across the wood. She saw dust dancing in the pale sunlight, and she knew the room really had to be cleaned. Edith hummed a tune as she swept the floor, thinking about how she was happy to have her family close. Even though she could see her husband scolding their son about the dangers that lurked in the hellhole. He would never have allowed this to happen. If only she had him back…

Edith paused her thoughts as she looked to the back corner. The wooden wheelchair...it hadn't changed a bit, apart from the worn out seat. The old backside breathed of blood and gross memories. The chills down her spine felt unreal as something lured her towards the chair. It took a marriage that could have been and hope that might have flourished and poisoned it all. And her, for that matter.

"How did it get here?" the old lady asked herself.

Her old hands lingered on the wood, trying to figure it all out. All she could feel was herself being slowly poisoned, and Thomas standing there, knowing what Lucille was doing. Tears fell down her wrinkled face, as Edith wondered on about the man she could have loved.

"Oh Thomas," she whispered," What did she do to us...to you?"

"Mom."

John walked in just as Edith wiped her tears away. She walked back to the doorway and held the broom tightly in her hands. Her son entered, a smile on his tired, sweaty face. Paint covered his arms, as his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked at his mother, with the intent of having a conversation that Edith knew wouldn't end well.

"Did you just find that?" he questioned, staring at the old wheelchair.

"Yes," she nodded," I haven't seen that thing in a very long time. You know, I was pulled around in that very thing by Lucille Sharpe herself. She had it out for me-"

"That's what I came to talk to you about," her son began," Mom, I think telling the kids about 'what happened' in this house is getting to their heads. Madge has been having nightmares since our first week here."

"She's read the story."

Edith said it with a matter-of-fact tone that she displayed when she didn't want an argument. She knew her son was going to go on about the house and how her stories were filling the children's heads with nonsense. Her son grew uncomfortable as he let out a nervous laugh, intending to give his mother a full lecture.

"Yes, a story," he presumed," it's not real. Ghosts, murder? I think you're wrong about it, Mom. None of this can be real."

"It is real," Edith sighed," John, your father could have told you all about what happened in this house. I know you'll believe me-"

"And I shouldn't," the man grew increasingly annoyed," if you keep putting these tales in the heads of Madge, Edward and George, they'll start to question it all. They're going to hate living here and beg me to go back to America. I don't need that now. This job can make me a rich man. We can all be rich. Isn't that what you want?"

"I want my family to be safe," her voice grew hoarse, as she grabbed the shirt of her son, hands shaking as the minutes grew longer," You haven't seen the horrors I was exposed to. You're going to end up dead just trying to make this place liveable!"

"I don't care if I do!" the man's voice raised," I have worked long days and nights just trying to give my family a great place to live. I don't want to lose everything just because you overreacted. If you are so ungrateful, then go back to Bathsheba! She'd love to have you back!"

Edith went to speak up, but the anger provoked in her son's eyes was word stopping. It was obvious that he hadn't meant what he said, but the McMichael's son was too riled up to think otherwise. John, feeling heated by the situation, turned away, his heart racing and mind all over the place. He needed time to think and work on his house. The one he knew wasn't haunted.

Edith still stood at the door, eyes welling up with tears as she saw him leave. In a way, she felt guilty about the way the situation was going. She knew he worked just as hard as her husband had, but leading them into this house...she sobbed quietly at the thought of her son not listening. At the thought of the entire house falling apart, with all of them inside.

As she cried, Mrs. McMichael heard the wheelchair move closer to her. She didn't look at first, but when she turned her head, Edith almost jumped back. Placed perfectly on the seat, was the ruby red ring. The one she had worn long before.


	8. Chapter 8: The Bath

**Hope you guys enjoy!**

February was approaching and the days grew colder and the snow came heavier. The clay still posed as a problem, as John and the others tried their hands at fixing up the house. They ended up in deeper problems as they faced rotting wood, slipping surfaces and clay taking over their lives. There was no rest, and they hadn't been able to enjoy the house. But Madge, who spent her time about the house, found more and more things to discover.

"There are more rooms than I could have imagined," she told her grandmother as she weaved through the stairs," I always pictured the house being this...odd."

"Isn't it beautiful in the darkest ways?" Edith gave a tired smile," I know that your father tells you what's real and what's not, but he's never been to his house."

"I don't think he'll ever know, Grandma," Madge sighed," He never had much of a thought for ghosts and spirits. I don't know if I blame him though.."

Her grandmother smiled sadly and kissed the girl's temple. As she walked off, Magdalena could see why her father didn't want to be a part of the stories. The ghosts that lurked around Allerdale Hall were terrifying and they followed the girl. This, she was sure of. She walked along the hall with her pondering thoughts as she made her way to the end. The door on her left had been wide opened, and a room she had never seen before.

"Strange," she looked into the nearly empty room," Edward? George? I wouldn't be playing around if I were you."

Madge crept into the one windowed room, seeing the soft light from outside. A cinder fireplace stood on one wall with dust on every corner of the room. It felt disturbing and intriguing at the same time. She twirled around the room with a soft smile on her face. She was in love with the lonely room, despite having just walked in. She felt alone- and she was fine with that.

Above the fireplace, Madge noticed a dark painting. She walked over slowly, resting her hands on the mantelpiece. The man in the painting was striking, his eyes calm but full of haunted memories. He had a broken look to his handsome face. The soft skin he had shone in the picture and Madge, who swore she saw the stranger, fell in love with his beauty.

"Who are you?" she wondered aloud, staring into his eyes," Where have I seen before?"

" _In your dreams…."_

Madge turned sharply at the sound of the voice. The black ghost she had seen before stood there. The black fog came at her feet, and her eyes held death and despair. She was horrifying, and the girl's heart raced as she watched the ghost step towards her, arm outstretched.

" _Come to me...Edith."_

Madge ran straight past the ghost. She screamed as she tried to reach for the girl, but fell back. The McMichael's daughter rushed for an escape and a door with a lock on it. The guttural howl of the ghost was enough to run through Madge's skin. She knew the ghost was after her, and had called her Edith. Edith? She was never told that she looked much like her grandmother, but it didn't seem to matter to the black ghost.

" _Edith!_ " she screamed as she glided down the hall," _Come back here, you insufferable whore!"_

"I'm, I'm not Edith," the girl breathed out, realizing how insane it was for her to be talking to a dead human being.

The woman screamed as she followed, anger and black tears dripped down her bitter face. She glided across the wooden floor. Madge had to find a way out of this situation. She found the bathroom straight ahead and dove into the room. The ghost that cried out loud was shut out from the world, as the door locked. The banging outside her door caused Madge to fall back. She stood by the tub, sliding down as she watched the door with fear. Her hands felt clammy as the banging on the breaking door.

" _Open this goddamn door!"_ She screamed," _LET ME IN!"_

" _Lucille!"_ another voice came to the light," _I thought we agreed to leave these people alone. That is not Edith-"_

" _Edith or not,"_ the ghost understood," _She is in this house. She has brought her family into this house, and we will take them out!"_

After a few seconds, the arguing faded. Madge slowly got up and walked to the front door. She opened it calmly to find an empty hallway. She felt relief wash down her back as she shut the door. Suddenly, the cranking of pipes came about. The girl walked over to the tub, waiting for something to occur. Then, with great force, a red substance spewed from the pipes, causing the girl to scream. She feared that blood came into the bath, and dripped in a gushing rage.

Madge fled from the room in fear, not bothering to look behind her. She yelled for anyone in the house, fear rushing through her veins. She felt sick to her stomach as she sped down the hall and into someone that stood. When she realized it was her mother, the girl cried on and on, while the woman tried to calm her fearing daughter.

"What happened?" she asked as softly as possible.

"The tub is full of blood," Madge sobbed," There was a ghost behind me. She chased me into the bathroom and there was-bl-blood.."

John, who had been behind the woman, investigated quickly. He soon found out that the substance had only been clay, and that was nothing to fear. He glared at his mother, knowing her stories had truly gotten to his daughter's head- but did not have the patience for an argument. Diane felt her daughter's forehead.

"You feel really warm," her mother helped her to her feet," Come on, honey. We should get you something to drink. Then it's straight to bed for you."

Madge looked back at the bathroom, knowing she wasn't sick and that a ghost lurked in their house. Or more, for all she knew.


	9. Chapter 9: The Ghost

**Hey guys! Now that summer is here I can finally get my fanfics done. I hope you guys enjoy!**

"But Dad, I am perfectly healthy-"

"We just want to be sure," the man insisted," you've been exhausted these past few days. I don't blame you for the stress, Madge. Your grandma- she puts all of this nonsense in your head. I should have never introduced you to that book."

Madge held onto her copy of the story, for fear of her father snatching it away. He just glanced at the cover, then smiled at his daughter. After kissing her forehead and bidding her goodnight, he got up and left the room. He had a lot on his mind and his daughter's ever growing illness wasn't going to help.

"Is she alright?" Edith asked softly, knowing that her granddaughter was not, in fact, ill.

"She'll be okay," her son's expression softened," she needs rest and maybe more medicine. You should get some rest too, mom."

John went into his room, but Edith stayed in the hall. She knew what was best for her family, but was dismissed like every other time. If only her son could understand...

With frustration, his daughter picked up her book and read it to herself. She couldn't believe she was stuck in her room because of her visions. No, it wasn't visions. It was really the ghosts! The house _had_ been haunted.

"Why can't I get it through your head?" she asked quietly, as if her father was in the room and still talking to him," What is so wrong that I can't come to you with the truth? I wish you understood. I wish you did."

Madge knew talking to herself wasn't going to help, so she just read her book without a word. Slowly, she found that she was falling asleep. Her eyes closed as the book was clutched to her chest, feeling a bit feverish and overall tired from the situation.

She woke up in a room she hadn't seen before. It was a tiny room, in her perspective, with only one thing in front of her. Madge felt her heart race as she looked around, clutching her chest, holding her book tightly. It was her security blanket in this room, without much knowledge of where she actually was.

"Hello?" she called, without an echo," Mom? Dad? Grandma?"

No answer. Madge looked around, hoping to find some guidance in this dream. She studied the vault in front of her. It was a metal circle, the bolts twisted on the sides and the lid. The twisting top looked as though it was holding back something evil. Nonetheless, the girl was guided towards the vault without much of a thought. She held the book in her left hand, tucking it close to her chest as she twisted the top. It took a few quick movements before it finally opened. The thundering crash of the lid hit the floor.

In the vault was inches of thick, red clay. Madge had heard about this in the story, and been told by her grandmother. The vaults were in the basement. They had always been. It was where the Sharpes hid the bodies...as Madge leaned closer to truly study the substance, a red hand came from the sea and grabbed the girl by the throat. She struggled for a good second before it began to drag her in. She could smell the mixture of clay and blood in her nose, pure panic setting in. Madge's nose was less than an inch away before…

The girl woke up, clinging to the book. The sweat ran down her forehead, feeling weak and scared all at once. Her fear was slowly subsiding, but spiked once more when she saw the figure in front of her.

"Stay back," she whispered, ready to throw her book at the ghost anytime.

The ghost had been as white as snow, eyes like that of a blind man. The cut on his cheek was deep and the color of the clay in Madge's dream. He did not stir in front of her, but gave a small smile when she raised the book. The girl realized that he wouldn't be hurting her. Madge had seen this man before, but where?

"Can I ask why you're here?" she asked quietly.

The ghost did not speak. He turned his head to the door quickly, which made the girl jolt back. He slowly looked back to her, and extended his hand towards her. Madge slowly got out of the bed, contemplating her own actions as she went to the door. The strange ghost looked to the door once more. She leaned her ear against the door, still afraid of the ghost before her.

"...we have a lot of setting up to do," John mentioned to another person in the hall," Rearranging is the first step to success in our new home. That means fixing up rooms and getting rid of all that old furniture."

"Oh, but some of it is priceless," his wife brought up," Like that old piano! We have to keep that."

"We will, dear," John sighed," if this house is haunted, the spirits wouldn't be too happy with throwing out some of their precious furniture- now would they?"

Madge felt her back muscles tense. She looked to the ghost, who looked into her eyes. The smile was gone and a feeling of despair washed over his tired face. He shook his head gently, then looked back to the door. Madge felt her hands were shaking as she turned to the door again, hearing that they were walking away. She lifted her head from the door and looked to the ground. She understood now why the strange man was here.

"Does this mean that-?"

But when she went to speak up, the ghost had vanished from her sights. Madge kept her eyes to the door. She had to keep these visions to herself- for fear of her father sending her off, thinking she was sick- or just touched in the head.


	10. Chapter 10: The Clay

**I apologize for never updating this story- I had ideas that unfortunately went missing. But I've recollected them and I'm here to update again! Enjoy!**

Madge couldn't sleep that night. She awaited one of the ghosts to be there and she would tense up all over again. She knew she could go to one person. Of course, Edith was in her room the next morning, staring out of the window. She'd felt better (though she wouldn't admit it to her son). Her hands were aching and her bones kept shaking. Mrs. McMichael had been more tired than ever. Aging was her enemy, but she had to keep her spirits up. Especially when they were stuck in this...hellhole. When her granddaughter knocked on her door, Edith's smile came back as she faced her.

"Hello Madge," she said," Are you feeling better?"

"I wasn't sick," the girl explained as she sat down," I just had too much on my mind, I guess."

"Right," Edith nodded," So, dear, what's on your mind?"

"Last night," the girl was holding her book close, fear in her heart," I was visited by a ghost."

Edith's smile disappeared as her granddaughter explained what had happened. The ghost she described was vivid in her mind. She, herself, could see the figure. Of course he wasn't there- not physically, at least. The pale ghost was standing there, with blood leaking from his cheek. How he'd tried to warn Madge about the changes of the house. How he didn't want anything to become different. But she didn't know who this was…Edith grabbed her granddaughter's hand gently, which stopped her from speaking.

"Madge," she whispered," I've seen that ghost before. He's not going to hurt you, as far as I know. That...that was Thomas Sharpe. My ex husband."

"That was Mr. Sharpe?" Madge asked, slightly shaken by the news," He didn't try to hurt me or poison me-"

"He wouldn't," Edith explained," Thomas was never one to hurt people. But Lucille was. Thomas doesn't care about the changes in the house. I think he would be pleased to see us here. Lucille minds. She doesn't want change. She will do everything in her power to get rid of us. We have to tell your father-"

"No!"

Madge knew they couldn't tell her dad. The first thing he would do is call his mother off for 'being insane'. Their future would change and Madge couldn't let anything bad happen. Her grandmother stroked her hand gently, understanding her stress about the situation.

"Madge," she continued," if we don't tell your father about what happened, we all might be in danger. I know talking to him about this is stressful. Believe me- as his mother, I wish he understood. I wish he took the time to believe me. I wish he had as much belief as you have. But, whether he listens or not, we have to tell him."

The girl hated the idea of doing so. However, she agreed to talk to him. To tell him the truth. As her conversation went on, the boys ran about the house. George and Edward thumped on the wooden floors, swinging on the rafters. Despite the fun they were having, the boys were bored to death in their home. They'd been through every room in their house and hadn't been able to go outside (due to the rising clay). For a minute, Edward sulked on the steps, thinking of what they could do. Until George snapped his fingers and caught his twin's attention.

"We haven't been to the basement yet," he brought up.

"Mom said not to go down there," Ed protested.

"Exactly."

Both boys shared a devious smile as they ran to the elevator. They closed the gate and pulled the lever. They anticipated the discoveries they could find in their basement. While George discussed findings of bodies or money, Edward looked through the bars. In each hall, he swore that he saw a black mass standing. With a long dress and eyes that held no soul. It scared him, but he wouldn't tell George. Besides, he was just seeing things and his grandmother's stories wouldn't get to him. All he could do was sit away from the bars until the elevator stopped.

George opened the gate and stepped out. Edward did the same, but he was slower. He didn't want to get hurt in a place like this. Several vaults stuck out of the ground, with tops that one could simply stir about before opening. Ed felt chills down his spine as he approached one of them, the one George was trying to open.

"Stop that," Ed insisted," if you get those clothes dirty, Mom'll know we were down here."

"Relax," his brother laughed," We'll be fine. You think way too much."

The vault came open and George had a devilish grin on his face. The boys peered in, eyes anticipating any kind of treasure awaiting them. All they could see was thick red clay. It bubbled along the sides and dripped on the metal. Its blood-like color made both boys feel sick, but Edward was more open about it. George looked over to his twin when he heard him gag.

"Can we go back upstairs?" Ed asked softly.

"Why?"

"I just don't want to get in trouble."

"Have fun," George insisted," If we get caught, then we get caught. Honestly, Ed, you don't-'

The boy felt a cold force push him in. Edward fell onto the hard floor, looking up at the vat. The black figure that the one boy saw loomed over the vat. The smoke glided down from her hands, an old fashioned look upon her. Ed felt his spine tingle and his breathing speed up. The ghost turned her head and stared the boy in the eyes. All urges to fight back came through as he ran towards the vault. She slammed the vault shut and disappeared without a trace.

"Help!" George yelled as his legs kicked in the clay.

Edward tried to open the vat but found it had been locked. He knew the panicking feeling wouldn't die down. He had to save his brother. He ran to the elevator and went upstairs, ready to admit what he saw.


	11. Chapter 11: The Truth

**Enjoy!**

John looked over the plans for the rebuilding. He found that there were no flaws, and anything edited out had a red marker through it. The kitchen was the most important part of the house, as Diana wanted it to be beautiful. He loved his wife and wanted nothing more than to keep her happy. As she prepared the tea, she discussed her perfect kitchen with her husband and Mr. Willis.

"Just a huge stove, cabinets that close, and sturdier floors," she sighed as she took our three cups, pouring the tea and serving it," I'm tired of having the doors open and my cups breaking. I have to buy a new set almost every other day!"

"All down," John smiled," After the kitchen, we only have to worry about the walkway and the basement."

"John," Mr Willis reminded as he swirled in some sugar cubes," do remember that the basement is a dangerous place. Completely remodeling it will throw off a certain rhythm and-"

"Don't speak in tongues, sir," John laughed as he drank his tea," I know it has its issues, but it's nothing we can't fix. It just needs a little love, as my wife or sisters would say. I can assure you that we are going to make it all work out."

Mr Willis nodded, but kept quiet as he looked at the floor. He knew what secrets the basement was keeping. He'd heard the tales and seen the trials many went through. Each person that went into Allerdale Hall never stayed the same. Of course, Mr McMichael wouldn't believe a word the older man had to stay. He didn't even think twice when it came to the ghosts and spirits that could be lying in his own home. He would rather him believe a lie than know the hard to take truth. As they talked, Madge and Edith were leaving Edith's room, ready to talk to John, when they saw the elevator. The door flung open and Edward ran out, shouting in a panicked state to his parents. The group ran out of the kitchen and the two stood at the stairs.

"What's the matter, Ed?" John asked, both hands on his son's shoulders.

"George and I went into the basement," he said," I know we weren't supposed to be down there. George fell into one of the vats and it got closed on him. I'm so sorry!"

"No," Diana's face was completely white as they ran towards the elevator.

Edith and Madge looked to each other and shoved themselves in. They knew it was Lucille and they knew she was getting revenge. The family sped down to the basement. John threw himself out and listened for his son. He heard banging on one of the vats and ran over. He opened the door and grabbed his son, red clay spilling all over the floor. George's body was soaked in red, his body shaking in fear. Diana held her son close, stroking his hair as he shook.

"It's okay, dear," she whispered, tears streaming down her face," it's all going to be okay."

"It-it was the-"

"Shhh," his mother hushed, helping him stand up," Don't say a word. Come upstairs- and we'll get you cleaned up."

Madge and Edith watched as both boys and her mother walked towards the elevator. The daughter clenched her fists as she looked to her father. They knew who'd done this. They knew what was trying to kill them. The only thing they could try to do was convince him that the house was haunted. The girl approached her father, panic still in his eyes.

"Dad," she said," I can't keep this to myself anymore. We can't keep this down."

"What is it, dear?" he asked softly.

"This house is haunted. There are spirits here that are trying to kill us.'

John was quiet for a minute. He stared at his child, his emotions running through only his eyes. His expression scared the young girl, who felt her neck and shoulders tense up. Edith looked to her son, pleading that his daughter's small concern could make the difference. Until he looked over to his mother, anger slowly rising on his face.

"What did you tell my daughter?" he asked.

"Dad," Madge said quietly," Grandma's right about it all. She was right about the Sharpes and the poison and-"

"Madge, nothing here is haunted. Your grandmother is telling stories. George was simply playing around and fell in. The knob simply got stuck and he couldn't get out. No spirits, nothing."

"George saw a ghost! Didn't you see the way he was shaking. He was trying to tell mom what it was, but he couldn't get it out. He was so terrified! He knows what's in this house and I don't think we can stay here anymore."

John extended his hand towards Madge. He asked calmly for the book. She felt taken back at such a request. This book had been around with her her entire life. She couldn't give it over easily. But the look in her father's eyes scared her. Giving in, the book was placed in his palm and she stepped back, arms across her chest in fear. John turned to his mother, the anger stirring onward.

"You have filled my daughter's head with lies and stories. She hasn't been able to sit still since we got here because of you. You made her believe what you wanted to ever since she was born. You are aging and you are checking out mentally. You are stuck in a world that's far from our own and you've been that way ever since we came here, ever since Dad died and ever since you wrote this damn book! You are losing your mind and your stories will no longer poison the minds of my children!"

The book was tossed into the red clay, Madge leaping for it. The leather cover was drowning in red clay, and all she could do was watch. John didn't get it, and perhaps he never would. With tears spreading down her cheeks, Madge walked off. Her grandmother looked to the floor as John watched his daughter go up in the elevator.

"Why did you have to do that, John?" his mother finally asked after a few minutes.

"All my life, you told ghost stories. I just want my kids to believe what is true. And not to be caught up in the stories of the world. Mr Willis, will you take my mother to her room? She's ill...and I need to be alone."

Edith watched her son sit on one of the steps, staring into his hands. If anyone was checking out mentally, she decided it was her own son.


	12. Chapter 12: Thomas

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John had to be alone. If he wasn't, he would never calm down. He left the basement in silence and went to his room. He felt his hands shake and feet twitch as he thundered to the bedroom. He almost lost his son. His daughter was being dragged into a new world by his mother. He couldn't get past every little thing that was falling apart. He approached his bedroom door, hand on the knob, when he stopped as a voice was coming through.

" _I can be trusted to do this on my own_ ," a woman's raspy voice said," _I don't need any assistance from someone like you_."

Mr McMichael could tell it wasn't his wife. She was busy taking care of the boys. It wasn't Madge (as she was crying) but it could have been his mother. He put his ear against the door, hand still on the knob and ready to enter.

"This was all my plan," she hissed," I have been plotting since the day they set foot on our land. I do not want you ruining this. The poison is in my hands and I am not afraid to use it."

Poison? It hadn't been his mother. Her voice was much softer and had no dark undertones. The woman went on about poison and how all would die. As her voice got louder, John pushed the door open and looked around. No one had been there, and not a thing was out of place. The doctor glanced and stepped through the room. Not a person was in sight nor was a thing out of place. It was all strange. Diana came storming in and scared her husband.

"What did you do to Madge's book?" she asked with an angered face.

"Don't scare me like that...please," he said," As for the book, I took care of that."

"They're just stories, John. They're not causing her to go crazy and you know that."

"Our daughter was never crazy. My mother is filling her head with stories and it's killing her. Di, I need to push this while its down. I cannot let her believe that ghosts and spirits exist. It scares me to have a torn family. I can't lose anyone."

Diana understood, but remained quiet. Softly, she said she had to start dinner. She left the room, wishing her husband had chosen a different action to take. John sighed and went to follow, until he felt something at his foot. He looked down and picked up a tea cup. It was old, with yellow where white should be and faded blue designs. He hadn't seen this before...not only that, but the odorless liquid dripping from it definetely hadn't been tea.

Madge's tears were hot and she felt sick. How could her father not see? How could he be so blind? Her grandmother was becoming ill and she had nothing to remember her by when she was gone. The book was in inches of thick red clay. The book she had since she was little was- on the bed? When the girl had looked up, she saw that the book was on the blanket, good as new. She slowly reached for it, hands shaking as she and flipped through the pages. They were like brand new. Even her grandmother's signature.

"How?"

As she looked at the cover, a hand was placed down on it. She could see right through the snow white hand as she looked up. The same ghost came to visit her, with a smile on his worn face. She jolted slightly, but knew she didn't have to be afraid. She looked into his clear eyes, knowing it was going to be alright.

"You're Thomas Sharpe," she said," You were married to my grandmother."

"I was."

Madge didn't expect the ghost to speak. His voice was low and soft, like a candle's dying flame. He could see that as she reeled back slightly. He smiled and looked to the book.

"Do people believe her writings?" he questioned," Do they see what your grandmother does?"

"Most do," the girl said as she wiped her tears away," Others are more skeptical. Like my father. He thinks she's just a crazy woman. Me? I never doubted her."

Thomas saw Edith in the eyes of her granddaughter. Her spirit and creative thinking remained in the heart of the teen. He was reminded of the woman he loved though could never truly show. He had to protect her and the others that lived in his old, haunted home. His smile faded and did not go unnoticed.

"You've come to warn me of something, haven't you?"

"Madge," he started, voice still dying," what your father is doing to the house is wonderful. I wish I had been alive to fix it up. My concern remains with my sister. She does not take lightly to change, especially when it was from the woman who...ruined her life. When she died, she was to stay alone in this house. My spirit was forever passing but Lucille was left behind. And now, she is making her peace with the house."

"What do you mean?" Madge asked.

"She has found a way to end her curse," he explained," by destroying our home. She is sinking Allerdale. And she will take your entire family with her."

Madge felt her heart claw at her chest. Her family was in grave danger. She could never make her father see that. Her mother would be right by his side. Perhaps the boys would understand, but they wouldn't side with her. Not when John was convinced that the house was fine. He needed to understand that this was time sensitive. Madge knew she had to go to the only one that would listen. She looked up to thank Thomas, but he was gone. The door, however, had been opened. Madge tucked the book underneath her arm and hopped out of her bed. She left the room quickly, not noticing the dark figure behind her.


	13. Chapter 13: Lucille

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Edith felt cold in the wheelchair. Mr. Willis thought it was best to keep her in the chair while they had it. She wanted to argue, but she was growing too ill. She knew her time on Earth was fading, and that she was as sick as a dog. Her husband would agree, as he had been the same way five years ago, while he lay on his death bed. She felt heartbroken by John's actions. She knew he was making big mistakes, but she could no longer argue. Not when the house was sinking (as she had been feeling the mansion breaking down) and she was dying. Madge suddenly burst in, the old lady looking to her granddaughter for some sort of hope.

"Thomas came to me," she explained," he said that Lucille is going to take the house down with her."

"That's why the house has been sinking," Edith gasped," I knew she would do something sinister…What do we do?"

Madge knew the only thing they could do was get out. But she had to get her family out. Her grandmother slowly got out of her wheelchair, hobbling to the door. The floor creaked loudly as the house started to make odd noises. Diana and the boys came rushing out of the room, looking around for whatever made the noise. She held the boys close as they looked around, shaking slightly as the haunting sounds. Diana knew the tales were true. John came out of his room, hearing the noises and low howls of the house. He turned to his daughter and mother, understanding that he'd been wrong.

"Mom," his voice was shaky," Madge, I am so sorry-"

"We don't have time," Edith said softly, placing a hand on her son's face," It's okay, John, but we have to leave now."

He nodded with tears in his eyes. He had a lot to be guilty for now. The family was crowding out of the house, feeling relief to be leaving. Their home was shaking and the smell of clay was seeping through the air. John made his family lift their shirts above their nose and mouth, not wanting them to breathe in the bad air. At the end of the hallway, John saw a black ghost standing. He froze, realizing just how real his mother's stories were. Edith looked to Lucille, making eye contact with one another.

"Lucille."

The woman screamed and ran towards them. The children covered their ears as Diana led them downstairs. The dark smoke followed behind Lucille, her screams loud. Until they heard her call 'Madgelena'. The girl turned back, looking to the top of the stairs. Her father tried to grab his mother's wrist, but she wouldn't move. He tried to argue that they had to run. That the ghost was coming to take them away. But Edith just smiled and placed a hand on her son's cheek. He stared, knowing what she was going to do.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Tell Madge to never stop believing. To never lose that book and to never forget me."

The wood was falling down on the group. After he held his mother close, and let go, John ran down to his daughter. She realized what her grandmother was doing, and began to sob. Her father held her close, calming her down as they ran out of the house. The clay was seeping through the floorboards. The house was slowly being consumed in the substance. Edith looked to Lucille, who stopped to look the old woman in the eyes.

"I don't blame you for getting angry," Edith said," but you don't deserve a happy ending. You tried to take my life and that of my family. I will never forgive you for what you've done. You're an evil bitch and, if you're going to take this house, I want you to take me with it."

"I will gladly do so."

Lucille grabbed Edith by her neck. The ghost screamed as she pushed the old lady off of the broken railing. A scene all too familiar as she watched Edith plummet to her death. Lucille was satisfied by the woman's demise. Now, she had to wait for her and the house to perish in the field.

John made the kids pile in the back of his car. He made sure each child and his wife were alright, before hopping into the driver's side. Madge and the boys turned back as the car sped out. She watched as the house cracked, its frame being broken in an instant. The wood splintered as it slowly began to sink into the clay. The girl was sobbing quietly, heartbroken at the loss of her grandmother. Once again, the book, too, was gone and she had lost the one person that believed her. Her silent sobs didn't go unnoticed. Her father looked in the rearview mirror.

"This was a mistake," he said," It's okay, dear. We're going to back home. We're going to be okay, it's okay. She told you to never stop believing. She- she loved you."

Her father's reassurance was sudden, but Madge was still heartbroken. She knew her father had lost so much. They were both in shambles, but the other was better at hiding it. As she stared in her palms, she noticed something at the bottom of her feet. She picked up the book, and realized that it was Crimson Peak. Everything was in place. Even the signature- but there was an added piece.

"P.S," it read," Keep your head up. Write your story and let the world know."

Madge looked towards the house again. By now, they were leaving, but she could see someone standing there. The young Edith smiled, waving to her granddaughter. Madge waved as well, as they sped out of their old home. The ghost of the woman put her hand down, and walked along the clay. Slowly, she faded away, and never fading in the hearts of her family. Especially her Madge and her John, who, from that day, believed all his mother had said.


	14. Chapter 14: 1971

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1971

The interview was to be held at the Sterling home. Though Peter would never admit it, he loved attention from the media. He knew directing would get him somewhere, but his wife's career did one better. Ten books in the last twenty years, all successful and well loved. He was proud to have such a wonderful wife, so he wanted her interview to go well. He took his young son out for the day, so he would not disturb the interview. His teenage daughter, however, stayed behind, ready to learn about her mother's book. When the interview started, Edith was right beside her mother, ready to listen to every word.

"Mrs. Sterling," the interviewer asked," You've stated that your grandmother, Edith Cushing, inspired your book 'Laundering Allerdale"."

"Well, Steven," Madge joked," it is in the same place as her book."

Her daughter smiled, as well as the interviewer. He'd discussed the people that didn't believe her grandmother's book, nor her own. He wondered what she thought of her skeptics. All Madge could think about was her grandmother's advice in her Crimson Peak copy. She knew she would never stop believing, nor her family. She glanced to her daughter, seventeen and still thinking the stories were true. And she smiled.

"They'll believe what they want to," Madge explained," For years, my father was a skeptic. As I've stated in my book, I tried to get my father to understand that the ghosts were real. And that they were trying to kill us. However, I could never convince him. After all that happened at Allerdale, I stopped forcing people to believe. They will follow if they allow themselves to. So, yes, I have my skeptics. My grandmother had hers. I say, invite the skeptics in for a drink and a slice of cake!"

Edith was happy that her mother could easily brush off nonbelievers. She didn't scold them or become distraught that the world didn't believe her. In that way, the teen admired her mom. She'd learned everything there was to know about the old English home. Did she believe it? Of course! After all, she was named after the woman that started it all. Once the interview ended, the girl moved her chair closer to her mother. Madge smiled at her daughter.

"Mom?"

"Yes Edith?"

"If the mansion was still around, would you take me?"

"No, I don't think I would. Your great grandmother would come back to haunt me if I ever took you or Will there. I know the stories interest you, but I have to warn you to never go there. Even if it's just miles of red clay. You're better off keeping away. I don't want you to end up like your great-grandmother."

Edith laid in bed that night, thinking of what Madge talked about. She understood what her mom said, but she couldn't help but stay curious. If she ever went to England, she would have to go there. It was against her mother's wishes, of course, but she wanted to know more. She had a right, in a way, to know about the people that lived there. Slowly, she fell asleep, thinking of what she could do if she ever go to Allerdale…

Her eyes opened to a dark hallway. Edith hadn't recognized this room, as she hadn't been in this house. She looked around, trying to find her way across the hall. The wood was cracked and the smell was unbearable. But she continued, wondering where she was. As she thought, Edith wondered if this had been Allerdale. If this had been the famous house that had sunk in the ground years before.

As she walked, Edith heard moans and groans from all areas of the home. In fear, she listened for the whispers of the people that stirred there. She had to find out how to get out of this creepy dream. As she walked on, she heard knocking beside her. The tall, black door had a thundering sound pressing behind it. At first, it scared Edith, until she heard muffled words behind it.

"Hello?" she asked, trying to make out the words.

The words continued but she still didn't know what was being said. Nervously, Edith opened the door and red light poured out. Though blinded for a second, the dark haired girl saw a young man, trying to reach for her. His curly dark hair bounced as he screamed, begging for Edith to help him from a creepy, obese creature. The door behind her opened, revealing a dark room. Lights strobed and she could see a skinny young man, reaching for her as well. The grotesque creature was behind her, staring and moaning. The girl looked between the two, unsure of what to do. They got close enough to the door, but couldn't step out of their rooms. She went up to the red room.

"Help!" he yelled.

"How do I get you out?" she asked, unclear of how she was supposed to help.

"You have to go to Stella," the boy on the other side," She can put the book somewhere safe. She can do it for Sarah. She has to-"

Edith heard something slam down behind her. The boys begged her to get away, as she turned around. A body was slowly building, twisting and turning before her. The strange man had finally built himself, a wicked grin on his face.

"Edith Sterling.." he laughed.

The girl screamed and woke up, watching her mother run into the room and make a fuss. The dream seemed so real...she couldn't keep it to herself.

 **Thank y'all for reading my story! I'm glad I finally got to write it!**


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